DX01: SINGULARITY 12481

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, waves of iridescent light are shifting through the air in a massive, ornate parlour room... the walls are covered in dusty, Baroque-era tapestries, but the furniture is all sleek, minimalist 90s designer stuff. Umm, the smell of stale cigarettes and flat champagne hangs heavy, like it's been trapped since the last party, which feels like it might've been decades ago. The chandelier above is somehow simultaneously exploding and reassembling itself, shards of crystal flying apart and remerging into perfect, unbroken spheres in mid-air, and the air pressure feels slightly off, making my ears pop.